Silas House. All These Ghosts. Blair, 2025. Reviewed by Damjana Mraović-O’Hare, May 5, 2026.
All These Ghosts is the first poetry book by renowned Appalachian writer Silas House. Even though most recognized for his character-focused fiction and issues of Kentucky and its surrounding states, he’s also an educator, a staunch campaigner against mountaintop removal, and a prolific music review writer. He is considered one of most outspoken voices for LGBTQ Appalachians and Southerners, as well as one of the most relevant representatives of LGBTQ community in rural US. Southernmost (2018), which House considers his most successful book so far, created a small sensation by parallelly introducing homosexuality, evangelical pastors, and divorce to Appalachian literature. Consequently, the novel won many awards and was longlisted for the Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction.
In the poetry collection, many of these themes are addressed again and repeatedly, mostly in free verse, creating an accompaniment to House’s fiction writing. The title itself, All These Ghosts, invokes the author’s previous writing as much as lingering elements that constitute Appalachia. The ghosts seemed to be appreciated because they form a home but they are also a bit feared because they contain haunting memories. While his fiction is commonly written in style typical of Appalachian writing--narrative-driven prose with strong protagonists who battle nature and Appalachian conventions--the collection of poems is melancholy but always celebratory of the region and its people. The speaker does not deny the poverty of his family, for instance, or a lack of sources, but finds in them a point of strength of which he is prideful. At times, there are even pangs of nostalgia for moments that seemed challenging but are now, years later, seen as missed opportunities to recognize their exceptionality: meals of corn bread and beans, and listening to neighbors sing and play. Their typicality actually equals the uniqueness of Appalachia and the speaker’s upbringing.
The most moving poems, however, are those about the speaker’s family and the Appalachian identity. “What She Missed,” in its first few lines, encapsulates the complicated family dynamics marked by faith and domestic subtleties, making the reader’s heart break a bit: “Daddy took me to see Loretta Lynn / at Cumberland Falls but my mother, / mesmerized by the Pentecost, believed / country music was a sin.” A poem with a title that equals a diary entry, “At the Opening of Coal Miner’s Daughter, Corbin, Kentucky, March 27, 1980,” introduces a young and miserable speaker who is waiting to see the movie with his aunt. Staring Sissy Spacek, the movie is based on the autobiography by Loretta Lynn, with which the speaker (and therefore the author) is kin, and was a huge commercial and critical success, bringing Spacek an Oscar for the best performance. After the speaker is repeatedly whiney and exhausted by waiting in the freezing cold, his aunt berates him like this:
Sis plucked the cigarette from her lips
And looked me right in the eye.
“Because,” she said, “she’s one of us.”
Before that I had never known there was an us.
But ever since the world has been divided in two.
Harsh realities, often reduced to details almost mentioned in passing, provide a more complex picture of the seemingly idyllic Appalachia. In “Porches, Early 1980s,” the mother warns the speaker “Michael is really like family / but I don’t want you ever / to be alone with him.” In “This Is My Heart For You,” the beauty of the mounting in the rain is tarnished by an ecological catastrophe: “A distant thunder / that could be mistaken for blasting / . . . where another mountain is being hauled out one piece at a time.” House calls for a recognition of the region that is commonly associated with the American Other but only in its own totality that includes its multifaceted distinctiveness.
The book is dedicated to House’s seventh grade teacher, Sandra Stidham, “who read us poems,” but its structure is reminiscent of fiction; there are three chapters titled I, II, and III, including Prologue and Epilogue. The chapters loosely follow three stages of life of the subject’s mother and his close family members (early motherhood years; troublesome marriage and working in a school cafeteria; death), while the Prologue’s “Lost Place,” the only poem in the collection that rhymes, announces the book’s dominant themes of loss and admiration: “Listen to me: Once here was happiness. / . . . Now, this is the land of the beguiled, / . . . the little paths I trod as a child / and will never mark again.” On the contrary, “Sundays” from Epilogue calls for peace and reprieve of personal pain. In the third chapter, the subject reveals that the mother’s death left him utterly devastated so he pleads in the final line of the collection “O love, please protect us.” In addition to organizing the poems in sections that correspond with their chronology, House occasionally examines as well traditional poetic forms, such as ghazal, sestina, and pantoum. He even plays with the visual elements of the poem so the stanzas of “Ode to Sinéad O’Connor” are arranged in such a manner that they are evocative of the Irish flag, while the lines in excellent “First Home” look like a trailer.
In All These Ghosts, House is openly critical of the current American politics albeit in only two poems. In his fiction, he argues for inclusion and visibility of characters who are traditionally decentralized in the Appalachian context, but his protagonists abstain from direct commentary, allowing the reader to recognize immorality and issues that stem from religious bigotry and restrictive policies. Here, in the closing two poems of the third section are “Conversation With My Friend the Morning After the 2024 Election” and “The New Regime,” House’s speaker is cognizant of the political change but also insists on the perseverance that is both associated with people in Appalachia and those whose policies don’t align with the current government’s. In the first powerful poem, consisted of only three lines, House writes: “Weary times ahead, I say, / We’ll make it through this, she sighs, / and have joy along the way.” In “The New Regime,” whose title can be read as a playful reference to a new political establishment as well as a novel daily routine, the subject suggests: “Do not truck in empire. / We need no kingdom for the / power and glory are ours, forever.” There is obviously resignation inscribed in these lines but there is also conviction about the splendor of human life and decrees that operate beyond daily decisions of regressive political forces.
The closing section of the book is Barbara Kingsolver’s interview with House, in which it is revealed that the two writers grew up a couple hours from each other, and that House was deeply inspired by Kingsolver’s prose to become a writer. Kingsolver is a careful reader of House’s poems, while House recognizes in her a literary role model. The regional and generational influence is obvious, and the mutual admiration of the two writers apparent. The interview also suggests a potential reading of All These Ghosts but, most importantly, provides a reasoning behind its conception: “For one thing it’s a challenge of saying something memorable in a very small place. . . . a poem is perfect for contemporary people who might not feel like they can sit down and be moved by a novel but they can read a poem and have their day reshaped by it.”
All These Ghosts is the first poetry book by renowned Appalachian writer Silas House. Even though most recognized for his character-focused fiction and issues of Kentucky and its surrounding states, he’s also an educator, a staunch campaigner against mountaintop removal, and a prolific music review writer. He is considered one of most outspoken voices for LGBTQ Appalachians and Southerners, as well as one of the most relevant representatives of LGBTQ community in rural US. Southernmost (2018), which House considers his most successful book so far, created a small sensation by parallelly introducing homosexuality, evangelical pastors, and divorce to Appalachian literature. Consequently, the novel won many awards and was longlisted for the Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction.
In the poetry collection, many of these themes are addressed again and repeatedly, mostly in free verse, creating an accompaniment to House’s fiction writing. The title itself, All These Ghosts, invokes the author’s previous writing as much as lingering elements that constitute Appalachia. The ghosts seemed to be appreciated because they form a home but they are also a bit feared because they contain haunting memories. While his fiction is commonly written in style typical of Appalachian writing--narrative-driven prose with strong protagonists who battle nature and Appalachian conventions--the collection of poems is melancholy but always celebratory of the region and its people. The speaker does not deny the poverty of his family, for instance, or a lack of sources, but finds in them a point of strength of which he is prideful. At times, there are even pangs of nostalgia for moments that seemed challenging but are now, years later, seen as missed opportunities to recognize their exceptionality: meals of corn bread and beans, and listening to neighbors sing and play. Their typicality actually equals the uniqueness of Appalachia and the speaker’s upbringing.
The most moving poems, however, are those about the speaker’s family and the Appalachian identity. “What She Missed,” in its first few lines, encapsulates the complicated family dynamics marked by faith and domestic subtleties, making the reader’s heart break a bit: “Daddy took me to see Loretta Lynn / at Cumberland Falls but my mother, / mesmerized by the Pentecost, believed / country music was a sin.” A poem with a title that equals a diary entry, “At the Opening of Coal Miner’s Daughter, Corbin, Kentucky, March 27, 1980,” introduces a young and miserable speaker who is waiting to see the movie with his aunt. Staring Sissy Spacek, the movie is based on the autobiography by Loretta Lynn, with which the speaker (and therefore the author) is kin, and was a huge commercial and critical success, bringing Spacek an Oscar for the best performance. After the speaker is repeatedly whiney and exhausted by waiting in the freezing cold, his aunt berates him like this:
Sis plucked the cigarette from her lips
And looked me right in the eye.
“Because,” she said, “she’s one of us.”
Before that I had never known there was an us.
But ever since the world has been divided in two.
Harsh realities, often reduced to details almost mentioned in passing, provide a more complex picture of the seemingly idyllic Appalachia. In “Porches, Early 1980s,” the mother warns the speaker “Michael is really like family / but I don’t want you ever / to be alone with him.” In “This Is My Heart For You,” the beauty of the mounting in the rain is tarnished by an ecological catastrophe: “A distant thunder / that could be mistaken for blasting / . . . where another mountain is being hauled out one piece at a time.” House calls for a recognition of the region that is commonly associated with the American Other but only in its own totality that includes its multifaceted distinctiveness.
The book is dedicated to House’s seventh grade teacher, Sandra Stidham, “who read us poems,” but its structure is reminiscent of fiction; there are three chapters titled I, II, and III, including Prologue and Epilogue. The chapters loosely follow three stages of life of the subject’s mother and his close family members (early motherhood years; troublesome marriage and working in a school cafeteria; death), while the Prologue’s “Lost Place,” the only poem in the collection that rhymes, announces the book’s dominant themes of loss and admiration: “Listen to me: Once here was happiness. / . . . Now, this is the land of the beguiled, / . . . the little paths I trod as a child / and will never mark again.” On the contrary, “Sundays” from Epilogue calls for peace and reprieve of personal pain. In the third chapter, the subject reveals that the mother’s death left him utterly devastated so he pleads in the final line of the collection “O love, please protect us.” In addition to organizing the poems in sections that correspond with their chronology, House occasionally examines as well traditional poetic forms, such as ghazal, sestina, and pantoum. He even plays with the visual elements of the poem so the stanzas of “Ode to Sinéad O’Connor” are arranged in such a manner that they are evocative of the Irish flag, while the lines in excellent “First Home” look like a trailer.
In All These Ghosts, House is openly critical of the current American politics albeit in only two poems. In his fiction, he argues for inclusion and visibility of characters who are traditionally decentralized in the Appalachian context, but his protagonists abstain from direct commentary, allowing the reader to recognize immorality and issues that stem from religious bigotry and restrictive policies. Here, in the closing two poems of the third section are “Conversation With My Friend the Morning After the 2024 Election” and “The New Regime,” House’s speaker is cognizant of the political change but also insists on the perseverance that is both associated with people in Appalachia and those whose policies don’t align with the current government’s. In the first powerful poem, consisted of only three lines, House writes: “Weary times ahead, I say, / We’ll make it through this, she sighs, / and have joy along the way.” In “The New Regime,” whose title can be read as a playful reference to a new political establishment as well as a novel daily routine, the subject suggests: “Do not truck in empire. / We need no kingdom for the / power and glory are ours, forever.” There is obviously resignation inscribed in these lines but there is also conviction about the splendor of human life and decrees that operate beyond daily decisions of regressive political forces.
The closing section of the book is Barbara Kingsolver’s interview with House, in which it is revealed that the two writers grew up a couple hours from each other, and that House was deeply inspired by Kingsolver’s prose to become a writer. Kingsolver is a careful reader of House’s poems, while House recognizes in her a literary role model. The regional and generational influence is obvious, and the mutual admiration of the two writers apparent. The interview also suggests a potential reading of All These Ghosts but, most importantly, provides a reasoning behind its conception: “For one thing it’s a challenge of saying something memorable in a very small place. . . . a poem is perfect for contemporary people who might not feel like they can sit down and be moved by a novel but they can read a poem and have their day reshaped by it.”